Selfless clean-up volunteers prove we're at our best when things are the worst

HARVEST, Alabama -- A text popped up on David Moneysmith's phone Saturday morning. It was from his mother Sharon, back in Ohio, from where Moneysmith just moved a few months ago.

Special photo/Dion HoseRuss Lewey, Woody Maples and David Moneysmith help with cleanup on Cherita Lane in Harvest

"Why don't you see if there's any relief work around there to do?" she suggested.

Don't moms always know best?

Moneysmith took the hint.

They joined a band of strangers to go help strangers Saturday. They were a bunch of people armed with power tools and big hearts, motivated by compassion and moms and generosity and sense of purpose.

Quite simply, "It's the right thing to do," said Adam McCanless.

Once again, the Huntsville area goes through the worst and it brings out the best.

There were 10 of them, 10 of thousands who unselfishly offered their help in the aftermath of Friday's tornadoes.

Moneysmith and friend Ben Merkel, visiting from Cincinnati.

McCanless, who drove over from Florence and who had volunteered at Hackleburg last spring. "Words can't explain it, to drive up and see literally nothing left," he recalled.

Anthony Pence, who lives in New Hope and whose chainsaw -- perfect timing! -- was just back from the repair shop on Friday.

Woody Maples, who worked round-the-clock on the clock after the April tornadoes as a Huntville Utilities employee, who said, "Plenty of folks need help. If it'd been my house I'd hope they'd help there."

Roger Mainville and his son John Cooper, who helped rebuild in Anderson Hills last spring.

Russ Lewey and wife Diane, and son Roger Hustoles, visiting from Florida for the weekend.

"What better way to experience Huntsville than see a tornado first-hand and clean up after it," Lewey said.

They were teamed up after reporting to the VOAD (Voluntary Organizations Active in Disaster) headquarters at Alabama A&M. They were sent to the home of Randy and Monica Gray on Cherita Lane.

The roof had shingles ripped away. A column was knocked from the patio. A couple of trees that made it through April 2011 didn't make it through March 2012. A window was knocked out. A fence was mangled.

Pence, Mainville and Cooper clambered cautiously on the steep pitch of the roof, securing a tarp in that now-too-familiar shade of blue. Mainville is an aircraft mechanic, "jack of all trades, master of none," he said.

McCanless sawed some downed trees. Others traipsed through the thicket of a vacant lot, joined the Grays in collecting debris to be hauled away. Later, one of the Gray's neighbors enlisted their help hauling away remnants of three felled trees in a cart attached to Maples' 4-wheeler.

"All-hands effort, like they say in the Marines," Mainville said.

"It's a blessing," Gray said, leading a visitor on a tour of the damage. "It's definitely appreciated. Like the last time, we had a lot of people coming out."

The Grays are a military family. They moved here in 2009 from Ft. Bragg with son Brandon and daughter Brandi. They're a good reminder of how many people are in this area without nearby family to call upon for help. And the friends and neighbors you might call now? They're dealing with their own leaky roofs and downed trees.

Randy, who works at Redstone Arsenal, had Friday off and was on his way home from an eye appointment when the tornado struck.

Monica is a special needs teacher at Meridianville Middle School. At the instant her home was being battered, she was helping usher students to safety. The school was in the tornado's path and students eventually had to be bussed to a nearby church for their parents to pick them up.

"There were a lot of tears when they met up with their parents," she said.

Late Saturday afternoon, with the debris collected and only one more tarp to attach, Pence flipped down the gate on his truck and opened a cooler to reveal a luscious barbecue pork butt wrapped in aluminum foil. A loaf of white bread was produced. Helping hands helped themselves.

The strangers melded into a team made no big deal about what they'd been doing, even as the Grays offered their thanks.

"Just being neighborly," Cooper said. "You can't expect people to go through this alone."